


Aberration

by kymberlyblack



Category: Gears of War (Video Games)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 15:42:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17124137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kymberlyblack/pseuds/kymberlyblack
Summary: Slow Burn, slight timeline warping and changing some events.Two scientists and an engineer test a theory regarding solar flares and find themselves in exactly the predicament they had aimed for. Except none of them expected it to actually work.





	Aberration

“Think NASA's prediction about the Solar Flares today will be accurate?” Jacob asked, his face glued to the large television screen, hands busy controlling his character.  
“Within certain parameters, yes,” I nodded, refocusing back on my designs.  
“Do you have an estimate for energy projection?” Marc calmly questioned, his focus the same as Jacob.  
I sighed and stopped sketching on my laptop. I ran my hands over my face and then my eyes, trying to soothe away the headache that was fast approaching.  
“10^20 joules. The usual. Why are you asking?”  
“Thought maybe you would have some inside knowledge you could share with us, Miss Intern,” Jacob poked fun.  
“What's this really about?” I spun around in my wheely chair so I could look at both of them. Jacob and Marc were brothers, twins. They both had unruly obsidian curls, olive skin, dark-rimmed glasses. The only way to tell them apart was Jacob was clean shaven and Marc was sporting a neat beard.  
Marc hit pause and they both turned to look at me at the same time. It always freaked me out a little when they did that. Two set's of chocolate brown eyes framed behind glasses looked at me.   
“Remember a few months ago..” Jacob began.  
“July 27th,” Marc interjected. “So technically it was 8 months ago.”  
“When Katherine Malle went missing from her home?”  
I took a moment to collect my thoughts. Katherine Malle? Katherine Malle...Ahh.  
“They couldn't find anything, her mother insisted she wasn't the runaway type. Didn't the police drop the investigation?”  
“They did. But come, look at this....” Marc and Jacob got up that the same time, moving towards the basement. I followed them down the creaky stairs, wondering what on earth they were going on about now. A light flickered on and I had to take a moment. The walls were lined with news articles, mathematical models, photos and read outs of the recent solar flares.   
“Where did the washer and dryer go?”   
“Katherine Malle turned up,” Jacob nodded, pointing to a newspaper article, ignoring my question. “She said she didn't run away. She went into her video game.”  
“Okay, so she's crazy,” I sighed and crossed my arms. The basement was a mess. Boxes piled everywhere, papers littered on the floor, the small garbage can we use to use for lint and dryer sheets was overflowing with take-out coffee cups and wrappers.  
“We don't think she is Imogen. Katherine went missing the exact same day the first solar flare phenomena occurred. NASA predicted a median energy release for that flare, but it was massive.”  
“This is about your alternate reality theory, isn't it?”  
“Yes!” they both grinned.   
“So..your suggesting the energy from the first solar flare somehow, in someway...what? Punched a whole in space-time allowing Katherine to go into another universe where the events of her video game were real?”  
They both looked at me with large, beaming smiles. I could see the excitement in their eyes, and posture.   
“Her mother said she just appeared in her room, dressed in strange clothes. Katherine told detectives she was gone for years. Not months.”  
“How did she get back? IF, and this is a big if, somehow she was transported to this alternate universe, the odds are beyond astronomical that it would happen again and bring her back.”  
“Unless the hole never really sealed,” Marc crossed his arms. I blew out some air and ran my hand through my long ash blonde hair. I made a mental note to check my phone for when my next hair appointment was.  
“I can see it in your eyes,” Jacob grabbed a wheeling whiteboard while Marc grabbed a folding chair. He set it down for me and I plopped down, my head spinning. “You're curious.”  
“Why didn't it seal?” I asked.  
Marc shook his head.  
“We're not sure. The last solar flare was two weeks ago, and like the first one eight months ago, it was powerful, more than predicted. We believe it reopened the...scar, for lack of a better word. Katherine said it was twelve years that she was in there. Twelve.”  
“That's...twelve years?”  
“That's what she says. And she went back every year on the same day, in hopes of returning home. And she did.”  
“Well, it's an interesting theory. How do you plan to..”  
“Test it? I'm glad you asked,” Jacob looked at his watch. “We should head back upstairs, grab the packs.”  
Marc grabbed up three large hiking packs and headed up the stairs.  
“That wasn't an answer to my question.”  
“This is Katherine Halle's house, it went on the market two weeks ago and we bought it.”  
“You said this was your grandmother's house.”  
“Would you have moved in otherwise?”  
My head was bursting with questions as I was ushered up the stairs. Marc looked at his watch as he ran, putting a hand on my back and forcing me to move faster. They hustled me into Marc's room and slammed the door. After a flurry of huge hiking packs being quickly and clumsily thrown on and strapped, they turned to me.   
“I know you have questions, but just bear with us,” Marc started strapping a slightly smaller pack on me, while Jacob began slipping my feet into my hiking boots. I felt like a strange mix between a child and a famous singer, changing between sets.   
“Guys....” I tried to get their attention.  
“Okay, she's set. Let's strap ourselves together. We don't want to get separated.”  
They grabbed climbing ropes and secured us via carabiners to the front of our packs. I watched them unsure if I should laugh about the level of seriousness that this had reached, or call for help.  
“Guys...”  
Jacob shuffled over to an Xbox one controller, waking up the tv and the console with quick little movements of his thumb.  
“20 seconds until the energy from the solar flare hits us,” Marc was looking at his watch.   
“So if your theory is correct, we will be transported into a video game?”  
“That is the theory,” Jacob nodded, turning to look back at me. I had known these two for almost 10 years. We met in high school and continued on together into college. I trusted them   
“How do we know what game we will be transported to?” I asked, double tapping my smart watch to see where the energy levels were living.   
“According to Katherine, she was in this room, playing World of Warcraft when the room exploded with light, her body felt like it was being torn apart and then she passed out...”  
“She felt like she was being torn apart?!” I interrupted him. “That information would have been extremely useful like ten min...” my watch beeping stopped me mid-word. The energy from the solar flare had superseded anything we had predicted. In fact, it's energy level was higher than anything that had ever been recorded before.  
“Are you guys seeing these readings?” I looked up when no one responded. Both Marc and Jacob were staring at what looked like a heat mirage, except it was in the middle of the room, about four feet off the ground.   
“The energy from the solar flare must have ripped the scar open again,” I muttered as I walked closer.   
“Wormhole?” Jacob asked as he used his phone to record what was happening.  
“If it is a wormhole, or a scar or whatever, shouldn't it take us to the same place it took Katherine?”  
“Only one way to find out,” Marc swallowed, his olive skin looking a little pale.  
“Unlike Katherine, we have a choice to make,” Jacob looked at us out of the side of his eye. “We can stay and spend the rest of our lives wondering if...”  
The room around us began to shake as the scar began to flutter. I had never been very brave, nor imaginative, until I met the twins. They pushed me to think outside the box, to believe in the impossible, push the accepted theories.   
I grabbed Jacob's hand, and then Marc's. I nodded at each one before taking a step forward and then another. This could prove to be the worst decision I had ever made, but I think no matter the consequences, I would have spent the rest of my life in regret had I not gone in.

Katherine was right. It felt like my body was humming, vibrating with so much energy that I was going to be torn apart. Scattered across the cosmos. And as soon as it had begun, it was over. I opened my eyes to see a cloudy sky above me. I took a few moments to do some self assessment, and then I heard coughing. I sat up slowly, looking first to my right and then my left. Jacob was laying a few feet away from me. He sat up and looked around before fixing his dark eyes on me. Then he scrambled forward, his large hiking pack still attached to him.  
“Imogen,” he put his warm hands on my face. “Are you alright?”  
“I think so...Where is Marc?” I rubbed my eyes, looking around. I got to my feet quickly, the weight of my pack nearly pulling me back down again. I scrambled to undo the clips, my hands shaking so much I had to stop.  
“I don't see him,” Jacob was kneeling in front of me, his head turning this way and that, looking.   
“What if...what if he..” I was speaking before I even had a concrete thought in my head. Jacob looked down at me, his face unreadable.  
“He must have just...landed somewhere else,” he stood up quickly, reaching down to help me out.  
I jumped on board his train of thought, not willing to let myself go down that dark path again. So I busied myself with looking around. The sky was overcast, the clouds never seeming to part to let much light through, which would account for all the wilting plant life around us.  
“What game where you playing when the scar opened?” My mind wandered to what I knew they played. Skyrim, Call of Duty, Dark Souls, dear god I hoped it wasn't Dark Souls. I wasn't much of a gamer, but I knew from the curses and upsets in the living room that it was not a fun sounding game. Wherever we were, I hoped it wasn't very violent.  
“Well, I can't be one hundred percent sure, there are no landmarks or anything out here. But the game Marc was playing, the one we decided upon was called Gears of War. The first one, to be specific.”  
“Gears of War, huh?” I took a moment to think. I wasn't sure if I had ever seen them playing that game, or if I had, it didn't leave any specific impression on me.  
“I can hear vehicles,” Jacob's head snapped in the direction the sound was coming from, his obsidion curls shaking. “Get behind me Imogen.”  
I stepped behind him, even though a little part of me, an ultra-feminist part of me, thought I could handle myself.   
“What am I hiding from?”  
“Well, if this really is Sera, the planet Gears of War is set on, then it could a few things. The stranded, which is a term broadly used for the people who were left behind, or couldn't make it to the Jacinto Plateau before the Hammer of Dawn strike, which destroyed most of Sera.”  
“And the stranded would hurt me because...?”  
“I don't really think they need any specific reason. Think Mad Max, only less crazy and more post-apocalyptic just trying to survive.”  
The vehicles crested the small hill and came to a stop. I peeked out from behind Jacob's tall lithe frame, watching as people got out of these six-wheeled vehicles. Very large people.  
“Whoa,” I moved out from behind Jacob, just a small half step but it was enough.  
“Jacob! Imogen!” I felt Jacob stiffen at the same time I did. Neither one of us made any moves to go forward, even though we both knew it had to be Marc.   
Only he didn't look like himself. He was bigger, more muscle on his frame than I had ever seen. Not to mention the strange plated armor he wore.   
“I've been waiting for you,” he smiled, although truth be told it didn't look like a happy one.  
He stopped directly in front of us and I could tell he wasn't the same Marc I had known before we stepped into the scar. His eyes had a coldness to them that they never held before. He had some scarring on his arms and neck. I moved forward and threw my arms around him. He wrapped his own larger arms around me and held me tight.  
“How long have you been here?” Jacob asked, seemingly off in his own world.  
“Two years,” even his voice was rougher.  
“Two years?” I echoed.   
“We didn't account for time distortion,” Jacob scratched the back of his head. “Have any of the major events happened yet?”  
I stepped back from Marc, his arms letting me go reluctantly.  
“Lieutenant Kim was killed by Ram, Fenix just got promoted,” he paused. “I prayed the scar would spit you back out at home. This...we shouldn't have come here Jacob. And we definitely should not have brought Imogen.”  
I stepped out of the way, watching as the two of them had a stare down. I knew they had a special bond, as most twins do. Right now it seemed like they were having a conversation with nothing but their eyes.  
“We can find a way to make the scar open again, go home,” Jacob nodded, putting a hand on his brothers shoulder. Marc shook it away.   
“Don't you think I've tried that!?” he snapped, his face getting darker. “What little they have left of their technology has been modified for war. For stopping the locust. Their is nothing here that can open that scar. We have to wait for a solar flare to open it from the other side.”  
“So then we..” Jacob didn't even get to finish.  
“Wait? You mean like I've waited, for two years.”  
“I know this must have been hard on you, we didn't plan on this, couldn't have accounted for us being separated. But we are here now. Three minds are better than one,” Jacob was trying to be positive, but I could see a shadow creeping over him, making his shoulders stoop.  
“They coming with us or not!?” a loud man yelled from back near the vehicles. Marc raised one hand and they seemed to understand the command.   
“Three minds won't open the scar, our collective intelligence can't tell us when the next solar flare will occur back home and without that knowledge, we're stuck here.”  
“So we camp near the scar, make...” Marc cut him off with a cruel laugh.  
“You want to camp out here, be my guest. You'll be dead before morning. This area is crawling with locust and stranded. I've tried it all Jake, the best we can do is survive and pray to whatever is listening that the scar opens one of the few times we come to check.”  
I had remained silent for the conversation, in an attempt to learn as much as I could about this new...place. So far I did not have high hopes. But that didn't mean I would give up.  
“If we can't stay here to monitor the scar, then I can build something that could,” I nodded, bringing the brothers out of the funk they were in.  
“With what?” Marc asked, his coal eyes focused on me. I had never had him look at me that way and I was slightly intimidated by him now.   
“Salvage. If this world is sort of like a post-apocalyptic earth, then I'll just have to adapt. We did it at MIT all the time. For fun,” I beamed at him. I think they sometimes forgot that while their lives revolved around the theoretical portions of the universe, mine was very much on the physical.  
“How?” Marc seemed determined to try and stamp out my idea.  
“Well, I could modify a Geiger counter, that would save us some time. But I could build one from scratch, might be a better idea. More fine-tuned that way. I think the biggest challenge is going to be figuring out how we can monitor it from long distances. If this was back home we would just use WIFI, or a satellite.”  
“That...that could work,” Marc nodded his head, a small smile on his face. The first real one I had seen since we met up.  
“I didn't bust my hump to graduate at the top of my class to be useless in a post-apocalyptic world that we traveled to via a rip in the fabric of reality brought on by excess energy from a solar flare,” I grinned.  
Marc and Jacob laughed at the same time, making me join them. Marc grabbed for my pack and lifted it off the ground with ease.  
“Alright, let's go.”  
“How do we protect Imogen?” Jacob asked. Marc turned around quickly to pin me down with a stare.  
“Imogen, you are the worst off out of the three of us. You're to small to join the COG, you wouldn't be able to carry the guns, let alone handle the recoil on them. So that leaves few options. Under no circumstances do you allow any COG doctor do a gynocological exam. If asked, you tell them your sterile. Tell them you have endometriosis or an accident as a child. I don't care. You don't want to be shipped of to the breeding farms.” I felt my face pale at what that implied. But Marc wasn't done scaring me yet. “I'm not saying your fat I'm, but you've got more curves on you than any woman I've seen since I got here. Food is becoming scarce and war is hell. So if they aren't on the way to skin and bones they are hard as a rock. That's going to make you stand out, make you a target to some. Not everyone is who they seem, and just because they wear a COG uniform doesn't mean they won't hurt you. So don't give them a chance. I'm going to bring you both to HQ. Jacob is going to join the COG and you are going to impress them with your mechanical prowess. We stick together, we stay alive.”  
I did the only thing I could and that was nod. My head was so full, so many things were buzzing around at once that it was giving me a headache. Marc moved ahead of us, leaving Jacob and I to follow behind him at a much slower pace.  
“I know these games inside and out. I've read the books by Karen Traviss, I can keep us ahead of the major danger,” Jacob whispered.   
“Marc, how much do they know about your circumstances?” Jacob spoke aloud. Marc didn't stop, he just turned his head.  
“Everything, but they didn't believe me. Thought I hit my head or was a little on the crazy side.”  
“Well now they don't have a choice,” I smiled. “Right? With three of us saying the same thing, it should give it some credibility.”  
“Maybe,” Marc scoffed. It was going to take some getting use to, this new Marc. I looked at the more optimistic twin and whispered,  
“What we need to decide is how much we can tell them. Do we let them know that all of this, is a game where we come from? Wouldn't that somehow...minimize everything that has happened to them?”  
I was trying to think from a psychological perspective. If I had gone through hell as these people must have, how would I take it if someone showed up, all fresh and hopeful, and told me where they came from, all of this was just some game people played for entertainment. It struck me then, how absolutely absurd this whole thing was. I was in a video game.   
“We can't tell them,” Jacob nodded, his eyes shinning brightly. “Not after everything they lost, what they sacrificed. It wouldn't be fair.”  
“Not to mention it's not a game for them, this is their life. Their world.”  
He nodded, adjusting his glasses.  
“But we can help them,” he smiled, a firm set to his face. “We can give them back some of what was taken, what was lost. But we need to move carefully and not raise suspicion.”  
I nodded, smiling along with him.  
“I don't know this as you do, but I trust you. So point me in the right direction and I'll do my best to help these people while we are here.”  
“What are you two whispering about back there?” Marc asked as we reached the vehicles. Large men, larger than Marc and Jacob were mulling around.   
“Learning about where we are,” I smiled as I lied. I had never really been very good at it, my mother always told me to tell the truth and shame the devil. But here I was, fibbing to one of my dearest friends.  
At the sound of my voice, several men turned to look at me. One was a tall, broad African-American, but I wasn't sure if that was the right way to phrase it, as this was not Earth and there was probably no Africa. The other looked Hispanic, with warm coffee-colored skin, brown eyes and jet black hair. Once again, probably not Hispanic. The third was a blonde, like me. His hair was cropped short with a pair of goggles planted in them and a sneer on his face that could curdle milk. The last man was the most frightening. Tall like the rest of them, he had a pair of the most beautiful, brilliantly blue eyes I had ever seen. The wicked scar that ran down the right side of his face was in odds to that beauty, along with the set of his face.   
“Imogen Hart,” I introduced myself, for lack of anything better to do.  
“Jacob Pell, Marc's younger brother by three minutes,” Jacob smiled.  
“Great, more stranded,” the blonde snapped.  
“We're not stranded, we came through the scar,” Jacob explained like it was the most obvious thing in the world.  
“The scar?” this was from the dark-haired one with brown eyes. His voice was calm, almost soft.  
“It's a thin spot,” Jacob started but I butted in.   
“We don't technically know if that spot is any more thin than any other,” I turned to look at Jacob. He did the same.  
“True, but with it opening previously, I made the assumption.”  
“Marc..” I turned to the older twin.   
“We did agree it was scar, not a thin spot. If it was thin, then we could find another and getting home would be as easy as finding a bruise on an apple.”  
I liked that analogy.  
“But since it is..I think scab is a better word. A scar is closed wound with tissue build up, a scab can be ripped off. And that is what the energy from the solar flare was doing, opening a scab,” I theorized.   
“You're right,” Marc smiled, his eyes becoming a little less dull. I could see a spark creeping back into them.   
“If we are going with this theory,” Jacob adjusted his glasses. “Then if we found an energy source powerful enough we could theoretically open the scab ourselves.”  
Marc nodded, but I could see his wheels spinning.  
“I know this is more your area of expertise, but if we do find something powerful enough to open the scab again, how can we be sure it will open where we want it to?”  
They both looked at a loss.  
“We know Katherine was able to get back, but that was when the scab was opened by a solar flare on the other side,” Marc itched the five o'clock shadow that covered his face.  
“The solar flare may have acted like a key,” Jacob's hands began moving, telling me he was excited. “A key to a particular door. In this case, here. Sera. So if we try to pick the lock, force it open, who knows what the scab will open too.”  
This was far more into the theoretical than I was comfortable with, but I added in some of my two sense as well.  
“Consequences,” I mumbled, before clearing my throat and speaking up at my regular volume. “We need to think of the consequences of forcing the scab. Nothing may happen, or maybe it will open to home, or somewhere else...Or maybe it will open to the sun or a red giant or a black hole.”  
“You were telling the truth,” the blue-eyed man with the scar moved closer to us. Marc nodded his head.  
“Are we really believing this?” the blonde snapped. “Just because they are talking about some off the walls solar flare bat shit theory?”  
“Assuming I believe you, and I am not saying I am,” the big black man stepped forward. “Out of all the places you could have gone, why would you come here?”  
I looked at Marc first and then to Jacob. I remembered our previous discussion and clenched my jaw shut tight.   
“Because we wanted to help,” Marc nodded.   
“Well, we're still waiting,” the blonde snapped, fiddling with what looked like a tiny electrical fuse.   
“Can it Baird,” Marc shook his head.   
“We work best as a team,” I spoke up. “These two,” I pointed to Marc and Jacob, “Can see beyond the possible, clean through improbable and all the way to the other side of impossible. Back home they are the leading minds in their fields.”  
“Fat good it's done us so far,” Baird pushed the fuse back into the large vehicle. After a few moments he cursed and pulled it back out again.  
“Help the idiot Imogen,” Marc smiled and I moved forward, already having an idea of what was wrong. Baird looked up from his hands as I approached, but I ignored him. The problem was not the fuse, I had seen him test it, which left the connectors to it. I glanced around and picked up the little pen light laying on the frame. I wiped it on my shirt a few times before turning it on and sticking it in my mouth so I was hands free. A quick glance inside told me everything I needed to know. The wires were corroded at the plate in the far back. I pulled a bobby pin out of my hair, one that wouldn't be missed. I always used to many, two would do it. Then I better use four. I bent it quickly back and forth, breaking it into several small pieces. I grabbed up the small sodering pen and made quick work of it. I held out a hand for the fuse with my free hand. It took a moment and then the heavy fuse was slapped into my hand with more force than necessary. I waited a moment for the wires to cool, not a good idea to get it stuck to the fuse. That would be a pain in the ass down the road.   
I slid the fuse in and watched as some side panels lit up like Christmas. I turned to look at the group around me.  
“They think it, and I build it,” I informed them. The second I stepped away from the vehicle Baird the blonde was pulling the fuse out to look at the work I did.  
“What else can you do?” the scarred one asked.  
“Anything,” Marc nodded. “I wasn't much help here on my own and that's because I didn't have Imogen. She's...she's my Baird. She's like the whole of the COG's science division rolled into one.”  
“Give me a break,” Baird snorted. “She made some pretty little welds, not defeat the Locust.”  
“Give her time,” Jacob muttered.  
I had never heard them speak so highly of me before. I knew they respected me and my fields..  
“What did you do, before you came here?” the soft-spoken one asked.  
“I worked at NASA, it's our space science division of the government,” I replied.   
“Satellites?” Baird laughed.  
“Not my forte, although I did have a hand in the design of the new Department of Defense satellites. Most of what I work on is for off-planet exploration. Rockets, rovers, things of that nature.”  
“Off-planet?”   
“Back home we are exploring nearby planets,” Jacob shrugged.  
“And you design the..the stuff that gets them there?” Dom asked. I nodded.  
“Pretty much.”  
“Unless she's working on stuff for us,” Jacob added.   
“What do you two do?”  
“Particle physicist,” Marc smiled.  
“Theoretical physicist,” Jacob nodded.  
“Engineer, multiple fields” I nodded. The big black guy whistled and then shook his head.  
“It's getting late, we need to move out,” the scarred one nodded. “We take them with us. Hoffman can decide what to do with them.”  
The vehicles were cramped with the five of them, so it came as no surprise when we were separated, I was with the biggest guys.  
“Augustus Cole, but you can call me the Cole Train baby,” he grinned as he held a hand down for me to grab. I took it, marveling at how it encompassed my whole hand and part of my wrist. Marc climbed in next, handing me my bag. Next came the scarred man. He headed to the drivers seat.  
I watched as Jacob climbed on board with the sassy Baird, followed by Dom.  
“Let's roll out Delta.”

 

Three Months Later-

I was in the hanger bay well after midnight, working on another King Raven that had been slammed by locust fire. This one had a hole the size of New Jersey near its steering mechanism.  
“Don't they let you go home baby?” I smiled as the distinctive voice of Cole Train hit my ears. He wasn't alone, by the sound of the boots. I didn't get up, knowing they would come around to me. Not that getting up was easy, as I was on all fours, my back swooped as low as it could go, making my rump stick up high in the air. These things just weren't built for easy access maintenance.  
“Well this is a view I could live without,” Baird snapped.  
“I couldn't. You've got some buns baby,” Cole Train defended my honor. I laughed and began the difficult task of removing myself from under the cockpit. Once out I turned to look at them. Both were in the heavy armor still, lancers strapped to their backs.  
“What's up? Shouldn't you be resting?” I asked, grabbing a rag and wiping my hands on it.  
“What are you, our mother?” Baird leveled his dark blue eyes at me and I held them easily. I was exhausted and not ready to deal with this. Him. Not willing to deal with him. Ever since I had met him he went out of his way to be unkind to me. I didn't know if it was because he didn't like women, blondes, me specifically, my intelligence. I had no clues.   
“What do you need? I have three other KR's to look at tonight before I can get a shower and some sleep.”  
Neither one said anything for some time but then Cole broke the silence.  
“Kick off early, these birds ain't going nowhere.”  
I pointed to the armed gear at the open hanger door. The only exit.  
“I have specific hours assigned to me by the COG. If I don't reach them, if I bang off early, I lose my COG rations and quarters. I don't really have a choice here guys.”  
Neither Hoffman nor Chairman Prescott had believed our tale. But they understood our talents. Hence why I was stuck in this hanger all day, fixing whatever they brought to me, like a good little mechanic.   
“What?” Baird lashed out. “You offered them your help and now your shackled up in here. What time do you report here at?”  
It was not like Baird to be interested in anything related to me, but I answered anyways as I filled out the ridiculous forms that went with a repair.  
“I report at 0500 hours every day,” I yawned. It wasn't so bad. It kept me busy, let me sneak off parts I could use for the scab monitor. All in all, not terrible. “Did you guys need something?”  
As I was climbing down out of the KR, my shirt caught and rode up slightly on my left side. I paused to adjust it when a loud crash rang through the hanger. I hopped down quickly to see what it was. Private Kitner, the gear who was assigned to watch me the second half of my shift here, tripped over a tank of compressed air.  
“Kitner,” I called as I rushed over to him. “Are you alright?” He got to his feet quickly, his blush already fading.  
“I'm alright Imogen, just came to see...ugh..how everything. You. How you are doing,” he stuttered through that and his blush rose back up.  
“You idiot,” Baird laid into him. “If that would have cracked it would have gone sailing around here like a fucking torpedo.”  
“It didn't,” I turned and gave Baird a look that said shut up. “But he's right. These tank can be dangerous. You should try to be a little more careful around them.”  
“I will, thanks,” he smiled and awkwardly gave a wave before heading back to the open hanger bay door. I turned around and looked at Cole and Baird. Cole was grinning and Baird was sulking.  
“He's just a kid Baird,” I sighed.   
“He's an idiot who can't even manage to keep his eyes on where he was going,” Baird snapped.  
“Are you this unkind to everyone you meet?” I was getting more and more exhausted. Going rounds with Baird wore me out.   
“He was too busy trying to catch a glimpse of you with your shirt riding up than paying attention to where he was going.”  
“Boys will be boys, all that crap,” I waved a hand.   
“Came to give you your cut. Pool's in. Guess who won?” Cole flashed his pearly whites at me. I copied it.   
“Pool?” Baird looked confused, first time ever in my presence.   
“Cole tipped me off that there was a betting pool going on about me,” I smiled, holding my hand out as Cole put a large stack of ration papers in my hand.  
“What kind of pool?” he looked at me, blonde eyebrows down in a mask of uncertainty.  
“Who I was sleeping with,” I informed him. I cut the stack in two and gave Cole half. He nodded and tucked it into his pocket.   
“What?!”  
“Fixing it to win was easy once I knew what it was about. Cole and I went in on it together. Mega rations. I'm getting double bacon tomorrow,” I grinned.  
“So if you hear some nasty rumors about me and sweetness here, it's because we planted them,” Cole laughed.   
“You should have heard some of the wilder stories,” I shook my head. Nothing better to do, not like Sera was on the brink of complete and total destruction.  
“You were the star of some of them baby,” Cole nudged Baird who seemed to have gone off somewhere in his head.  
“Me?” he sounded incredulous. I tried not to take offense.  
“Yeah. And the twins. Sometimes separate, sometimes together. Some even said Hoffman, but nobody put anything down on that.”  
I snorted. Hoffman. He was old enough to be my father.   
“They thought you and I were sleeping together? I'd rather risk it with a drone,” Baird spit out acidly. I don't know why it happened, I had never been anything but kind to him. But the comment hurt. It hurt a lot. I was insecure, and then this pool thing. I was worried about my reputation. My boobs were perky, no sagging yet. And my stomach was flat, my butt was high and tight, thanks to all the squats I did. Before I came here I thought I was attractive, pretty even. But not recently. No makeup, showers with time limits, shampoo that made my hair feel like straw. I felt tears biting in my eyes but I managed to keep them away.  
“Baird baby, you best apologize,” Cole's voice was lower than I had ever heard it before. Soft almost.  
“Thanks, Cole, for coming down here, but I have a lot of work to do. So I'll see you later.”  
I didn't wait for a response, I walked away just as the tears began to snake down my cheeks. I wiped at them quickly as I crawled back into the KR. I could feel the pressure in my head and chest, even as I tried to bury my hurt feelings and wounded pride with work.   
“Doesn't matter,” I whispered. “You're smart, kind. You can't be everyone's cup of tea,” I told myself.

The next morning at breakfast I got my double serving of bacon, which made me happy as a clam. But then I saw Baird moving up the line behind me and it soured quickly. I thanked Amy, the gear serving me today and made a not so discreet dash for the back of the mess, where most of the science officers in the COG sat. I found Jacob easily and plopped down opposite of him.  
“Morning Im,” he mumbled. I grabbed the extra bacon and put it on his plate. He looked up at me, dark circles under his eyes.  
“Eat up brat,” I grinned. He sat up a little straighter, I wasn't sure if it was my presence or the fact that I had given him my extra meat.   
“Having any luck with the...” I let that trail off, knowing there were ears all around us.  
“Yes, but I have something for you to do,” he mumbled around a mouth full of bacon. I slouched back, a very unlady like gesture and gave him a look.  
“You mean besides building the scab monitor and fixing everything these gears break?”  
“You don't have too, but I think you'll want to when I tell you what it is,” he took a sip of his coffee.  
I ate my breakfast quickly and we both got up, bringing our trays to stack in front of the kitchen. I thanked Amy again and she waved back. Once out in the fluorescent-lit hallways, Jacob began to talk quickly and quietly.  
“I've been trying to think of a way we could help the COG, specifically our four,” he leveled his eyes on me. I knew he meant Dom, Marcus, Cole and Baird. They were the main characters in the GOW games, along with a bevvy of supporting characters. I had listened for weeks on end about the game, how it progressed. From both Jacob and Marc, when he had time. “And I think I've got it. We need to find a way to locate groups of stranded.”  
I looked at him as we walked but held my remarks until the gears behind us passed us by for walking to slow. I knew they mumbled something unkind, but I ignored it in favor of Jacob.  
“This is about..” I leaned in closer and whispered, “Dom's wife?” He nodded his head.  
“He hasn't told me, has he told you?” I shook my head no. It was a sad story, just one more in a sea of bad stories. But for some reason it seemed extra terrible, considering how long Dom searched for her, how he never gave up and what happened when he actually found her.  
“We know where she'll be, but that's not for years from now. I want to give them something now, help stop some of the bad while we can.”  
I didn't want to, but I felt I had to play devil's advocate.  
“What happens if we do do something, like find her early, before she's captured. Before she's tortured and worked to death in a camp. What makes them go down in that cave? How do we know that we won't screw something up in the timeline here? And how do we know if we save her now, that she won't be captured again later, or killed? The timeline could be fixed.”  
Jacob ran a hand over his face before nodding, like he was agreeing with something in his head.  
“We don't. But I think we should try, all the same. Reuniting families and loved ones can't be a bad thing. I refuse to believe that.”  
I didn't agree or disagree at the moment, because I wasn't sure where I landed. Of course, I wanted to reunite people, give them back their loved ones. I just didn't know what the consequences could be and that was the part that terrified me.   
“All we can do is deal with the right now. And right now we can try and save some people from a really bad fate.”  
I found my heart out-weighed my brain, as was something it often did.   
“I'll think of something,” I smiled giving his arm a pat before veering off to head towards the hanger.   
How could I possibly locate groups, size unknown, who may or may not want to be found, under the nose of the ever watchful COG? All the while building the scab monitor, and still find time to fix all the Packhorses and KR's and such.   
I felt the beginnings of an idea forming in my head, a little dim light that grew brighter the more I concentrated on it. Drones with active surveillance could work. I knew the COG had satellites, maybe I could borrow one of those and focus it on tracking large migrating populations of stranded. But that would be difficult, as I didn't know what those satellites were and were not equipped to do. I guess the only way to find out was to find out. And that meant getting a hold of a manual, or a terminal. A computer of some kind for sure. 

Two days later-

I had a rare day off, the COG made down time a priority, which was nice and unexpected. So I decided I would go scavenging. I would have to go off base, which was difficult because the gears at the gate were no-nonsense. They had dozens of questions, made a quick call to HQ and I was allowed outside, with a time frame. 

“Have you seen Imogen?” Jacob came to a stop behind Baird, his least favorite character in the series. It only made him dislike him more that he was unkind to Imogen. Baird flipped up his welding mask and turned to look at him.   
“Lost your girlfriend?” he snapped, his face drenched in sweat.   
“Have you seen her or not?” he asked, face impassive.  
“Nope, no little blondes running around here,” and with a quick snap of his head the welding helmet came back down and he went back to work.  
Jacob walked from the hanger to HQ, wondering if for some reason she had stopped by, trying to wrangle some parts from surplus.   
“Hey Jacob, how's things?” Dom asked, walking out of HQ with Marcus. They both stopped for a moment, Marcus regarding Jacob silently.   
“Good, have you seen Imogen? I can't seem to find her anywhere,” Jacob was trying and failing to hold back the nervous feeling that had grabbed a hold of his guts and twisted.  
“No, she's probably at the hanger, the opposite one from Baird,” Dom smiled. Jacob shook his head no.  
“I checked. No one has seen her since breakfast.” Some gears were passing by as he spoke and slowed down.   
“Imogen, blonde, pretty, about this tall?” a large gear asked, indicating her height with a smile. Jacob nodded.  
“Ass for days on that girl,” he grinned like a fox. “She got permission from HQ to go and scavenge the outskirts for salvage. Checked her out at the gate this morning. She's due back in a few hours.”  
“What squad did she go with?” Marcus spoke up, his voice gruff.  
“She rolled out solo, against my advice. But HQ said to let her go, she's a civvie.”  
“You let her go by herself?!” Dom spoke up now, sounding equal parts incredulous and angry.  
“Hey man, I was following orders, HQ says let her go, I let her go.” With that he walked off, shaking his head.  
“What was Hoffman thinking, let her run out there like that?” Dom asked as he looked at Marcus.   
“I don't know, but we're sure as hell gonna find out,” he tapped his ear and called HQ.   
What it is Fenix, we're busy trying to win a war here.  
“Why the fuck did HQ let a female civvie go out salvaging by herself?” Marcus came back with.  
What the hell are you talking about Fenix? No one goes out without our say so, and sure as hell not a female civilian alone.  
“Imogen Hart, female engineer. Blonde. Gears I just spoke to said they let her out this morning, with HQ's permission.”  
The line went dead for a few moments before coming back in with a vengeance.   
Rookie on comms let her through. Go and get her Delta, we can't afford to lose minds like hers. Hoffman out.  
“Where would she go?” Marcus turned to look at Jacob.  
“Anywhere with viable tech. Maybe shopping centers,” Jacob tried to think, but this wasn't his area of expertise.  
“She'll know we've stripped those areas as soon as possible,” Baird came jogging up on the left, from the hanger. He was in full armor. “She'll look in places the government didn't think to check right away. Garages, homes, universities.”  
“Move out.”

Cole met them at the gate and they set out on foot. The outskirts were only a few blocks from HQ, but it was like stepping into a different world. Signs of sink holes, buildings halved or even obilerated. Smoke rising from small fires that hadn't put themselves out.   
“What the fuck was she thinking, coming out here alone?” Baird asked, looking around. He seemed to be moving quicker than the rest, his stride longer.  
“Chill baby, we'll find her,” Cole tried to soothe his friend.  
“This isn't like you at all,” Dom smiled. “Are you..worried about her?”  
“You didn't know?” Cole turned to grin at Dom. “My baby's got his first crush.”  
Baird didn't bite back, which was a very un-Baird thing to do. Marcus stepped up, keeping pace with him.  
“We'll find her,” he gave a small nod to Baird, one he returned.  
They were searching for about an hour before they had any sign of her. Baird couldn't stop his mind from thinking over every worse case scenario it could come up with, some so far fetched he couldn't even believe he was thinking it.  
“Look,” Dom pointed to a small wagon sitting outside a large apartment complex. Normally he wouldn't have noticed it, but the way it was parked, and the things stacked in it, said volumes.  
“Let's go,” Marcus moved first, before looking around and calling the others to cross the street. They hugged the building, moving silently as they could until they hit the wagon. It was filled with laptops, motherboards, wires, tools, books and some unknown items. They moved around it, almost reaching the awning above the wide double doors when they heard,  
“What are you guys doing here?”  
Dom nearly jumped out of his skin, and he wasn't the only one. Everyone whirled around at nearly the same time, lancers pointed at what turned out to be Imogen.  
She wasn't wearing the COG standard uniform like they were use to seeing her in. She was in a pair of ripped blue jeans and a white tank top. Her dark brown engineer boots covered her feet and she wore a loose fitting blue button-up sweater. It made Dom think of a school jacket, with the way the logo was stitched onto the left side. Although the way she wore it, open and loose, was more relaxed looking.  
“What are we doing here?” Baird angrily put the safety on his lancer and snapped it on his back. “What the hell were you thinking, coming out here all alone?!” he was advancing on her, but she didn't move, save to drop the heavy looking back pack she had been previously carrying.

Imogen's POV-

“I'm doing some salvaging, I got permission from HQ before I came,” I looked between all their faces, a little confused. Maybe I had stepped in on an op they were running? I watched as Baird advanced on me, the muscles in his neck tight, the veins sticking out. He was pissed.  
“And what the fuck are you wearing?!” he gave me a quick up and down. I heard a snigger and looked around the angry genius to see Cole holding a hand over his mouth, trying to hold in his laughter.  
“Jeans, a tank top, my college sweater,” I offered, looking back to him. His blue eyes were shinning brightly. He opened his mouth but Marcus cut him off.  
“We came to get you. This area is crawling with sink holes, which means locust,” he fixed me with a look. “You shouldn't be out here.”  
“HQ had a little mix-up baby, some rookie sent you the all clear when it should have been a full stop,” Cole grabbed up the backpack from my side and Dom grabbed the wagon.  
“I'm sorry,” I stepped away from the still angry look Baird to face Marcus. “I didn't mean to cause such a fuss. I won't come out here again.”  
I felt terrible that they had to come get me. What if one of them got hurt doing so? It would be all my fault, and that would kill me.  
Marcus began to move forward and everyone followed. I sighed and kept pace, but even then I was in the back by Dom, who was pulling my wagon laden with scraps.  
“How did you know to come look for me?” I asked Dom. He turned his head and smiled.  
“Jacob was running around, asking everyone if they had seen you,” he informed me. That sounded like Jacob.  
“But how did you know where to look for me? It seems to me it would be like trying to find a needle in a haystack.”  
“Baird,” Dom's smile widened to a grin.   
“Lucky guess,” I snipped. The idea that Baird would voluntarily come look for me made me snort. “I'm surprised he came, did you have to drag him by the goggles?”  
“Actually, he came to us when he heard you were out here alone,” Dom's voice became more serious. “He's not as much of an asshole as he seems. He cares about people, I think it's just harder for him to show it sometimes.”  
I looked forward staring at Baird's broad back. He was taller than Dom, but shorter than Cole. I tried to think of something good about Baird. He was smart, genius level intellect. He was..strong. I didn't really have anything.  
“Well all he has ever shown me is contempt,” I sighed. “And I don't know why.”  
“How do you mean?” Dom seemed genuinely interested, instead of just trying to keep the conversation going.   
“I know he makes snide remarks to everyone, so I let that slide. But instead of just general rudeness with me, he personalizes it. Like, a few nights ago Cole came to give me half my winnings from that stupid pool,” I waited to make sure he knew what I was talking about. He nodded. “And I was face down in a KR, jammed under the display and he snaps about having to look at my ass.”  
Dom shook his head, a small smile spreading across his lips.  
“And today with the clothing comment. If you don't like my clothes why point it out? What purpose does it serve? I don't care for the short way the twins wear their hair now, but I don't say anything.”  
“Speaking of the twins,” Dom cleared his throat a few times, so loudly that I asked him if he needed a drink. He smiled and shook his head. “How do you know them?”  
“Oh, we go way back. I met them in my sophomore year of high school, we took a lot of the same classes. We bonded pretty quickly and after their parents died senior year, my fathers took them in. We're family.”  
Dom nodded and I was glad he didn't bring up the father's comment. I could put up with a lot of things, Baird being an ass, people second-guessing me because I was a woman. But when it came down to my dads, I didn't pull any punches. Literally.  
We passed through the gate easily and Jacob was waiting on the other side.   
“Imogen!” he raced forward and pulled me into a bone-crushing hug. I was pretty sure I was airborne for a moment or two.  
“I'm alright,” I stepped back and grinned at him. “Are you?”  
“Well besides the fact that my anxiety is through the roof, I'm good.”  
“Deep breaths,” I patted his shoulder. “I can take the stuff from here guys. Thank you, all of you. For everything.”  
Cole handed me the heavy backpack and I swung around my shoulders with ease. It was lighter than most of my hiking packs had ever been. I took the handle of the wagon from Dom with a smile and set off. But I didn't get very far.  
“Move over,” Baird's hand came down over mine on the wagon handle. I looked up at him, trying to figure out if he had an angle.  
“You just want to peep through my treasure,” I accused. He laughed, and it didn't sound fake or terse. I sighed, seeing no reason to not let him help me. It was heavy.  
“Alright,” I slid my hand out from under Baird's large one with ease. “I'll share, but you best remember this down the road when I need a bolt or a transducer.”  
“A transducer?” he sounded amused and not in a bad way. “What would you need a transducer for?”  
“Maybe I want to build a fishfinder,” I shrugged.  
“A fishfinder?” he scoffed. This tone I was use too.   
“Yeah, I like fish,” I lied and then came clean. “I don't. I really don't. They are slimy and they smell..”  
We were silent as we walked back towards the hangers.   
“Do you have a work space?” he asked as we approached the first hanger, the one where Baird worked.  
“Not specifically just for me. I share it with a bunch of other science officers. Why?”  
“Those bastards would love to get their hands on this stuff. It'll probably be gone tomorrow if you put it in there,” he looked thoughtful and if I was reading him right, which I might not be, a little sheepish.  
“What should we do then?” I turned to look at him. He kept looking straight, his eyes going this way and that. It was like he was avoiding looking at me.  
“I could make some space for you to work, it wouldn't be much, but I can lock it.”  
I stopped walking and so did Baird. I moved forward quickly and put the back of my hand to his forehead. He jumped back like I had struck him.  
“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice only slightly raised.  
“Just checking to make sure you weren't sick. I need to mark my calendar, Damon Baird, being nice to me,” I grinned at him. It was not something I had expected. The whole time I had been assuming he was helping me bring it back just so he could go through it, maybe ask for a few things for his trouble.   
“Forget it,” he snapped.  
“I'm sorry,” I immediately apologized. “I shouldn't have done that. I was just..I would love to work next to you.”  
His head snapped up quick, his blue eyes meeting my fern green ones. I could see doubt written on his face.  
“Working with someone who knows the difference between a pair of pliers and a wrench is going to be a nice change,” I smirked. His cocky grin slid back into place.  
“Preach it, sister.”

 

The four pack of extra large heroes had been gone for weeks, along with Marc. I had Baird's workshop to myself, which was a blessing and a curse. I managed to make several small drones based off designs I had seen from back home and from the remains of several strange COG bots that Baird had crammed in his workshop.   
I had done dozens of tests and simulations, not to mention the number of times I was sent running or ducking for cover when they went haywire. Now my little babies were off on their own, tracking the largest stranded groups I could find. That was a whole different problem, as I didn't have access to the COG military installations. But I had found two weather satellites still in orbit, courtesy of several stealthy trips off the Jacinto COG base and into the restricted areas of the outskirts. Weather stations were cool. The imaging was pretty good, all things considered.  
I felt a tad bit bad about hiding my exact expertise from the COG, I'm sure I could be of more use than fixing broken vehicles and I was pretty sure I would be in deep shit when they found out I had created my own little mission control in the small closet in Baird's workshop. But I had promised Jacob I would do everything I could to help find Maria. And now I was.   
“Imogen?” I heard someone call for me and I quickly stood up and slipped out the door, moving some things back in front of it. It was the best I could do for concealment. A gear I didn't know was standing in the doorway, looking around.   
“Back here,” I moved forward, meeting him halfway. Baird loathed when people just walked in, so I did my best to keep up his wishes. “What can I do for you?”  
He was a big guy, almost as big as Cole.   
“Heard you were helping gears find their people,” he hadn't taken his helmet off.   
“I'm trying,” I was pretty sure Jacob had sent him, so I tried to relax a little.  
“How's this work? Do I have to give you a picture of them...”  
I shook the thoughts out of my head and ran back to grab my iPad. This was the easy part.   
“So I built some drones,” I couldn't see his face but his body language told me I needed to change my verbiage. “Bots. They are out their right now, tracking any significant population of people. Once they reach them, they will take photos of as many people as it can and they upload here, to me.”  
“What the hell good is just a picture of that person going to do?” he snapped.  
“Hold your horses, I'm getting to it,” I huffed. “My bots travel in twos. One is strictly recognizance. The other has a prerecord message it plays, letting them know the purpose of the bot, where to find the owner, me. And allows for anyone willing to register. Once registered, they can look through the photos taken, date, time and GPS stamped. They can add notes, if they've seen that person, where, or if someone is dead now. It's very user friendly.”  
I held my iPad out to him and he took it, registering and then beginning to swipe through the hundreds of photos the bot had already taken. I was optimistic that this would cut our search time down for Maria. I had her photo, stolen from the COG's own missing person information kiosk.   
“You did all this?” he looked up from the device to me. Or at least I think he did. With the helmet I wasn't so sure.  
“Yeah. It took some time, but all things worth doing are worth taking the time to do. I just hope it will help reunite people. Or at the very least give them closure.”  
He nodded before taking a seat. He went through every photo, multiple times. He was clearly looking for someone. He handed it back after about forty minutes.  
“Don't give up, I've only found a dozen or so small groups. It expands every day.”  
He nodded and left without a word. 

Word of my little pet project had spread and I found I had little time to do anything else. I was constantly refining the search parameters, adding new features, cleaning up images. I still did my duties as a mechanic to the COG, I needed to eat after all, but the moment I was done, there was a line to see me.   
I had been at it for hours, my eyes were so dry and tired I could barely see out of them when Hoffman stepped up to me. I felt my body go rigid with worry.   
“Sir,” I didn't know what I was supposed to say, I wasn't in the army. His face was completely blank as he looked around at my tiny set up.  
“You do this all by yourself,” he asked.  
“Yes sir, I did it alone, it's my responsibility. No one else's,” I wasn't sure where we were going yet, he gave me no indication of disapproval or approval.   
“How are you tracking them?” he stopped his assessment of the room and trained those eyes on me. I swallowed nervously.  
“Well...I went out a few more times, to the local weather station and borrowed some of their tech, including their weather satellite systems. Weather satellites are used to look at things on the ground all the time, volcanos, fault lines, tracking wildfires, so I just modified the programming a little, had it track people instead.”  
The only facial movement was the lifting of an eyebrow, and only slightly.   
“From there,” I figured I better get it all out in the open now. Nothing to come back and bite me in the ass. “I built some bots from scraps I found and sent them out to groups of people. One bot takes photos, the other is a registry database. Anyone who registers can look through it. I thought I...I want to help. More than just being a mechanic, I mean.”  
“How do you protect them?” the question threw me for a loop.  
“Protect the...people?” I asked, not sure what he meant.  
“The bots, you can't tell me stranded don't shoot at them, thinking they are COG tech,” Hoffman's voice was flat, but I wasn't sure if that was how he sounded all the time, or if I was reading to much into it.  
“Oh, well that's the easy part. I retrofitted the outside with the same alloy you use on those huge grindlift things. It's littered all over the..the restricted zone,” I winced when I said that out loud. “It was a bit of a beast to reshape, but worth it in the end. My bots are hard to take out, but in the event one of them is downed, let's say someone hits it with..a..a flying bomb or something, the data is constantly backing up back here, so nothing get's lost.”  
He didn't speak and I began to get nervous. Fidgety.   
“Are you mad?” I asked after a few tense questions.  
“Mad?” he shook his head no. “I've had you and your twin friends here for months, one of them is serving on the front lines, good gear. The other is glued to the Chairman. And you, the one I was sure was going to be the least useful to us, has done the most for the longest without anyone be the wiser.”  
“I don't need recognition sir,” I shook my head. “I just want to help.”  
“You're doing a damn fine job.”  
And then he left. I felt my body deflate, all this stress was wreaking havoc on me. I flopped down on the little wooden chair, harder than I should have because it splintered and broke, sending me to the hard concrete on my ass. I laid there, not willing to get up yet.  
“You okay Imogen?” I turned my head to see Dominic Santiago looking down at me. He looked dirty, tired, but alive.  
“Please tell me you didn't see that,” I covered my face with my hands.  
“The whole thing,” he grinned. I sat up with a groan, taking his outstretched hand for assistance.   
“Heard you've been tracking the stranded,” he smiled softly. I knew this moment was going to come and I had hoped beyond a hope I would be able to do something good for this man.   
“I have, looking for someone?” I asked like I didn't know the entire tear-jerking story of his life.   
“My wife,” he took out a battered photo of himself and woman. They looked happy.  
“She's beautiful,” I smiled.  
“Thank you, she's been missing for over two years.”   
I grabbed my iPad, praying harder than I had ever prayed in my life.  
“You can fill out the description in the fields, it will help narrow it down. Was she listed in the COG missing person database?” I already knew that answer too.   
“Yes,” he was invested in what he was doing.   
“Then I've already got her picture uploaded.” He glanced away from the screen to steal a look at my face. “I might have..borrowed all their missing persons information and put it into my registry.”  
He smiled then and with a shake of his head he went back to searching. If she wasn't in there, what could I do to find her? Maybe I could plot her route backwards from where we know she'll be, but that could get...lightbulb! I could ask Marc and Jacob who she had been with, I swore they said someone was taking care of her before she was captured. If I could find the person or persons, I would have a chances at success. I would probably have to stalk them for...  
“I think this is her!”   
I startled at the level of his voice. Dom was usually soft-spoken but now his voice was high. I moved over quick to see the photo. It was from a distance and there were a lot of other people around her, but a quick glance said it could be her.  
“That was taken a few weeks ago,” I began and I could see his face fall.  
“None of that, once I have a group I don't let them go,” I smiled and motioned for him to follow me into my storage closet. I sat down and entered the bot number I was looking for. The group hadn't covered much ground yet, the satellites showed them only moving a few miles. I linked onto both bots following the group and accessed the comms.  
“I am looking for a Maria Santiago.”  
Dom had squatted and was pressed so closely to me it might have looked intimate to the untrained eye.  
I moved the surveillance bot around as I called out her name on the other, hoping beyond a hope. But this was a large group, numbering in the hundreds. I jammed the volume all the way up.  
“Maria Santiago!” I kept my voice even. Nothing yet.  
“You try,” I held the mic out to him, my eyes never leaving the live feed. I wasn't going to miss her.   
“Maria,” he got choked up for a minute, which made me as well. I was a sympathetic feeler. “Maria Santiago, it's Dom.”  
I kept scanning, calling in bots from other parts of this particularly large group. Now he was being heard on three different bots, all placed as best as I could. Time seemed to slow down. I checked the clock, 45 minutes had passed.   
“Maria Santiago, it's me, baby. Please, let me see you.”  
And then I saw an arm go up in the distance. Maybe nothing, maybe something. I moved quick, chasing down that arm. Dom hadn't noticed.  
“Dom,” I pointed as I moved closer, a smile spreading across my face. The blanket had kept her face cast in shadows, hidden from the camera's on my bots. But it was her, there was no mistaking it. Dom grabbed my shoulder like he needed to make sure this was real.  
“Hang on baby, I'm coming to get you,” Dom was crying and I found it hard not to as well. I wrote down the GPS location on a very well used scrap of paper and handed it to him.  
“I'll monitor her until you get there,” I moved the other bots to make sure I covered every angle.  
“Thank you,” he whispered and then went running.  
I grabbed the comm and began to speak.  
“Dom is on his way, I'd guess about an hours time, less if he takes a KR. I'll monitor you until then.”  
Her brown eyes were red from crying but she nodded. I had never been so paranoid in all my life. I kept switching the bots, watching the crowd around her and keeping up a steady, calm stream of chit-chat.  
“I can hear the raven,” she smiled and I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. But I remained on constant alert. I sent a bot higher and turned on it's light function, as it was getting dusky out. I figured it would be easier to spot her if he had a point of reference. Dom burst into frame and I set the bots back on auto.  
“Oh thank god,” I whispered, tears leaking out of my eyes.  
“You did good.” I jumped so hard I smashed my knee on the underside of the metal table. I turned to see Baird. I got up and threw my arms around him, happy he was back in one piece. He stiffened up and didn't return it, so I let him go.  
“Sorry!” I apologized, backing away. “I'm just glad your back and...not hurt.”  
He nodded before casting his eyes around my little room.  
“You went off base again.”  
I smiled, “Couple of times.”  
“I leave for a couple of weeks and you take all my shit,” he complained. I knew he was happy to be back and was just being his typical self. I had in fact not taken anything of his.  
“I've got my own things. Better things. And if you'd stop being you for a few seconds I could show you all the neat little things I found for you.”  
“What better things? I have all the good stuff,” he stepped back so I could move out. “Arc welder, hydraulic lift, grinder, soldering tools. What've you got, a little girly hammer and some screwdrivers.”  
He was referring to the hammer, the exact same he had, only I wrapped some pink ribbon around mine so it would encourage him to stop taking it everytime he misplaced his.  
“Satellite, two of them.”  
He stopped dead.  
“But I mean, arc welders are pretty cool.”


End file.
